


Dawning of a New Day

by michii1213 (BuckytheDucky)



Series: Semicolon Project [4]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: AU, Bullying, But Not Much, Gen, I swear, New Friends, Triggers, there's some fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-07
Updated: 2015-12-07
Packaged: 2018-05-05 10:29:29
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,407
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5371997
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BuckytheDucky/pseuds/michii1213
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Charlie's a persistent little bugger. She pesters Castiel into being friends, but he doesn't really mind. After all, a new friend is better than no friends, right?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dawning of a New Day

**Author's Note:**

> I am so, so sorry about this. I nearly cried myself at the end. I promise: This entire collection WILL have a happy ending. Okay? Don't hate me. 
> 
> The triggers are:  
> Bullying, blood, mentions of self-harm.

He groaned quietly as he skimmed over his timetable for the new semester. While there were the normal classes – Math, Chemistry/Physics, History, English, Government, and P.E. – there was also a class he certainly had _not_ signed up for: Child Development. Castiel stepped into the main office and asked the receptionist for the guidance counsellor. When she merely pointed for him to sit in a seat and wait, he did so with a huff of impatience. The first bell had rang by the time Mrs Blake called him into her small office.

He thrust the offending paper out toward her, mumbling, “I didn’t sign up for Child Development.”

“Castiel, correct?” At his affirmative nod, she smiled gently. “Yes, I remember your siblings. How is Gabriel? Has he calmed down any, behaviourally?”

“I would not know. I do not talk to him very often. But I am here about my timetable, not my siblings.”

“Of course. Well, I’m not sure you were aware, but we sent a memo to every incoming senior over the summer, stating that we would need your final elective class decisions the week before school started. We never got your reply, so we assigned you to the class with the most empty roster, which was, as you’ve noticed, is Child Development. Don’t worry – there _will_ be other males in the class.”

“That’s not what I’m worried about. What I’m worried about is the fact that I got put into a class I absolutely do not want to take.”

“I’m sorry, Castiel. There’s nothing I can do. The other classes are full, and we simply cannot fit you in anywhere besides what you’re already in.”

“Fine.”

“Castiel?” He turned to the guidance counsellor without speaking. “It won’t be as bad as you think, I promise.”

“Sure.”

He forced a smile and sped from the office. The hallways were barren by the time he made it to his first class. Castiel took a deep breath before pushing open the door. The teacher barely glanced up as she motioned for him to find an available desk. He ducked his head to avoid the stares while he made his way to a desk in the far corner. He managed to seat himself quietly. The teacher rose to her feet with a sheet of paper in her hand.

“Okay, everybody. I’m Ms Hawkins. When I call your name, say ‘here’ or ‘present.’ Any sort of shenanigans will get you kicked out of here immediately, and it’s the first day. Don’t screw it up already.”

By the time she made it to Castiel’s name, he was feeling significantly less annoyed with the unwanted class on his timetable. She passed out the syllabus and the first book of the term: _Great Expectations._ The bell rang before they could delve into anything deeper than “This book will most likely suck for you guys, but I expect you to read it and at least attempt to participate in discussions. Nothing half-assed, or you’ll write a five-page report over the chapters I assign.” The rest of the day passed in similar fashion, except for Chemistry/Physics. Halfway through, the class was released to B-Lunch. Castiel sat alone at a table nearest the door, keeping his back to the wall. He had spent over three years in the school, and he knew exactly what his peers were capable of. He made sure to glance around the cafeteria between bites. His knees hit the bottom of the table when he jumped at the shrill sound of the bell ringing over the low roar of a hundred students talking and laughing. He waited until the crowd dissipated around the trash can and tray deposit; after dumping his waste, he plopped the tray on the conveyor belt and hurried back to Chemistry/Physics for the last half.

Physical Education was, by far, his worst class. If the lessons were focused on running, swimming, and tennis, he excelled. But Mr Turner nearly always had them play sports like baseball, basketball, and dodgeball. He’d even tried two-hand-touch football the year before, but when the hour had ended with his students doubled over, laughing until they were breathless, and Castiel with his face covered with mud and grass – some of it even ending up in his mouth – and his knees, hands, and chin scraped and bloodied from the hard impact on the ground, the teacher had put a stop to the game. He hadn’t said anything to the others except for “Hit the showers, folks! Bell’s about to ring!” And Castiel had learned then that he was truly on his own when it came to gym class. As soon as Castiel walked into the gymnasium, Mr Turner rolled his eyes and excused himself from the conversation he was having with the other gym teacher.

“Novak!”

“Yes, sir?”

“Look, I don’t wanna hurt your feelings or anything, kid, but... I don’t think you should be in my class. I’m gonna talk to Mackey and Walker about letting you tag along with their classes while they do the swimming portion.”

Castiel shrugged in response, hitching his bag further onto his shoulder. Turner swivelled on his heel, beckoned the other teacher over, and immersed himself in a new discussion. Something hard yanked on Castiel’s bag, and he immediately fell on his ass. Three of the football stars walked past, laughing quietly. Turner gave another roll of his eyes at the sight of the gangly teen in a pile on the floor. Castiel refused to react. Even with the stinging in his tailbone, letting anybody know they’d gotten to him was out of the question. He rose to his feet quickly and made his way to the teachers’ sides. The dark-skinned one clapped a hand onto Castiel’s shoulder.

“Novak, this is Mackey. His class is gonna be covering swimming first this semester, so go on and join them. If he reports to me that you’re not participating, I’ll flunk you.”

Castiel nodded and followed Mr Mackey to a room just off of the gymnasium. The blond-headed teacher gave him a sympathetic smile.

“It’s hard, isn’t it?”

“What?”

“Basically being kicked out of a class simply for being yourself.”

“I guess.”

“Don’t worry. As long as you don’t screw up too spectacularly, I’ll make sure Turner passes you, so you won’t have to take this class again next semester.”

“Thanks.”

Mr Mackey patted his back and turned to the students sitting on the bleachers against the wall. “Go take a seat. All righty, kids. We’re not going to jump in right away, because I don’t want a repeat of last year. I’m looking at you, Chambers.”

A girl on the top row blushed furiously as the rest of the group laughed at her embarrassment. Castiel settled onto the bottom seat and fidgeted with the hem of his grey T-shirt. He was curious as to what Chambers had done the year previous but didn’t want to ask and bring attention to himself. Mr Mackey went over all of the rules and safety instructions for the class; Castiel was almost disappointed when the class ended without any promise of actually swimming any time soon. He glanced down at his timetable to double-check the room number of his next class, grateful to see he didn’t have to go upstairs or outside again. He slipped through the door to the classroom as people were still spilling out; the teacher smiled at him once he was seated at a desk in the back.

“Hey, would you mind helping me pass out some papers?”

“Uh, sure.”

Castiel was still setting the papers on desks when the bell rang. He was so focused on getting one pink syllabus, one yellow grading guidelines, and one blue classroom rules for the second to last desk, that he didn’t see the foot until it was too late. He crashed to the floor, the sheets in his hands flying in a multi-coloured arc. His jaw hit the linoleum, and his mouth filled with blood. He couldn’t move, he was paralysed with humiliation, he just wanted the floor to swallow him whole. He clambered awkwardly to his feet once again, looking around for anywhere he could spit out the coppery-tasting liquid. Ms Lowry was by his side in an instant; there was nothing but concern in her dark eyes as she double-checked that he wasn’t seriously injured. Her words were soft, meant for only his ears.

“Go to the bathroom, rinse out your mouth, okay? Then come back. I’ll take care of Caleb.”

Castiel nodded numbly, feeling the familiar pinprick behind his eyes. He hurried from the room but not before hearing Ms Lowry speaking in a low, dangerous voice like a steel trap. Under the fluorescent lights of the restroom, Castiel looked washed-out, his blue eyes too bright and nervous, his dark hair like an oil spill in the dead of night and only making his skin more ghostly pale. He leaned over the sink and let the blood in his mouth fall into the basin, the crimson staining the porcelain in thick pools. He continued to spit until his mouth felt dry, cottony. His fingers trembled when he reached for the faucet, twisted the knob until cold water gushed from the spigot. He cupped his hands to catch the water and bring it to his lips. After swishing the water around in his mouth, he spit it out, noticing absentmindedly that it was a faded rose colour. He repeated his process until the water he was ejecting was clear. He wiped the sink out with a wad of paper towels, tossing them in the trash, and making his way back to his Child Development class. When he entered, the kid who had tripped him was nowhere in sight. Ms Lowry nodded at him, and he walked back to his desk. He felt more confident than he had previously. Maybe Mrs Blake had been right. Maybe this class would be better than he anticipated.

Castiel had just pulled out his notebook, when the door opened swiftly, and a girl ran in. Her hair flew out behind her in her rush, and he could’ve sworn flames were surrounding her pale face. She muttered a hasty apology to the teacher and hurried to sit at the desk in front of Castiel. He ducked his head when she turned to smile at him; after a few moments, she adjusted her body to face the front of the classroom, and he breathed a silent sigh of relief. All he wanted to do was pass the class, so that he could graduate on time and get the Hell out of this town.

“We’re going to do something new this year, something I haven’t done with my previous classes. Since this is a child development class, there’ll often be times that you will need to role-play being in the position of guardian of a child. Which means, parenting. So, I have a bowl here with your names. What I want you to do is draw a slip of paper and look at the name on it. If your name has been called out by another student, then you will not need to draw a name. I’ll explain what this all means when we’re done.”

Ms Lowry smiled at the confused whispers buzzing around the room. Castiel bit back a groan. He was certain this meant partnering with someone, and that usually meant him doing all the work while having to share the credit. The teacher stopped by his desk, held out the bowl, and grinned encouragingly at him. He chewed on his lower lip as he dipped his hand into the bowl, grasping at a thin strip of paper. When he pulled it out, his fingers felt wooden, and he fumbled trying to unfold the paper. He cleared his throat at Ms Lowry’s pointed look.

“Charlie Bradbury.”

“No way. Holy frack, that’s awesome!”

“Charlie, you don’t have to draw.”

Ms Lowry walked away to offer the bowl to another student, and the girl in front Castiel gave a toothy grin.

“You’re... You’re Charlie?”

“Yep, the one and only! And you are...?”

“Castiel.”

“Hm. I think I’ve heard of you before.”

“Probably not a difficult thing. Most people here have either heard of my brothers, and therefore me, or... Well, they’re the ones who –” He clamped his mouth shut, ignoring Charlie’s inquisitive eyes. “Never mind.”

She stared at him for a few silent moments; he was starting to get nervous under her gaze. Finally, she shrugged. “Anyway, I’m Charlie, but you can call me your new best friend.”

“I do not need friends. I am fine as I am – alone.”

“Nah, I don’t think you are,” whispered Charlie softly, her brown eyes not once leaving Castiel’s face, though they’d softened as she spoke. “Nobody deserves to be lonely. I’m gonna make sure you’re never alone, even if it kills me.”

True to her word, Charlie had become his new – and only, if he were to be honest – best friend. She’d started off using their Child Development class as conversation-starters, but within two weeks, she was talking to him like they’d known each other their entire lives. She had given him her number after their third class together, for “just in case you need me” purposes. He never called her. It wasn’t until after the first month was up, that she followed him to his locker, leaned against the wall, and nonchalantly invited him over to her house after school.

“Why?”

He hadn’t meant it to slip out, especially not in such a brusque manner, but Charlie didn’t look perturbed. Instead, she shrugged and pulled a pack of Skittles from her pocket.

“Because I want to hang out with you, without the idea of _babies_ dangling over our heads.”

“You don’t want kids?”

“And you do?”

“I asked you first.”

She laughed. “Right. Eh, not really. Maybe when I’m older and in a stable relationship, but right now? I’d rather have some fun, be unabashedly geeky, and get lots of purty girls.”

She said the last part with an affected Southern drawl, and Castiel couldn’t stop the chuckle. He closed his locker door and headed off toward his Maths class. Charlie stayed on his right side during the whole walk. He realised when he stopped outside the door, that he hadn’t answered her.

“I suppose I could.”

“It’ll be fun, Castiel.”

“You win. I will.”

“Shweet. Look, I gotta run. Moore’s gonna have my ass if I don’t get to Government on time. Peace out!” she yelled as she ran backward, flashing the Spock sign.

Castiel merely shook his head and walked into his class. He was nervous about going to Charlie’s house once school let out. What if her parents didn’t like him? What if _she_ ended up not liking him, once she got to experience how he was outside of the concrete walls of the high school? What if he lost the only friend he’d really ever had? He sighed, dropped his head to the desk, and took a deep breath in an attempt of steadying his nerves. Unfortunately, all it seemed to do was amplify the feeling of a cold hand clenching his throat tightly, his heart racing in his chest, and the icy sweat beading on his forehead. His breathing was ragged as he gulped air into his lungs, but none of the blessed oxygen seemed to fulfil the journey to the final destination. A gentle hand on his shoulder caused him to jump, and he bit his lip, hard, to prevent the yelp from escaping. Mr Creaser stood behind him, a worried frown on his face.

“Everybody, read over the syllabus – _quietly_.” He knelt down to speak lower, “Are you okay, Castiel?”

“Yeah – yeah, I’m fine. Just...”

“Anxiety attack?”

Castiel could only nod; his vocal chords had all but disintegrated in his throat.

“Do you want to go to the hall until you calm down? Actually, we’re not doing much of anything today, just going over the syllabus and classroom rules, if you want to go ahead and get out of here? It won’t count against you.”

“Sure. Thanks, Mr Creaser.”

“Don’t forget your papers.”

His classmates stared openly while he shoved the papers and book into his backpack, but Castiel didn’t look back once as he hurried out of the room. Once in the hallway, he leaned against the wall, struggling to catch his breath, to stand firmly on the tilting ground. It took twenty-one repetitions of the breathing exercises he’d found on an Internet forum, before the world stayed steady and his vision cleared of the blurry haze. He took tentative steps forward on shaky knees; when he didn’t immediately collapse, he walked through the halls and enjoyed the quiet.

School had always been his favourite part of life. His mother had encouraged from the beginning his love of learning; his father had always supported Castiel’s attempts in absorbing more knowledge, more talents. Both had graciously acquiesced to their child’s demands of wanting to learn how to play instruments, paint, and crochet, amongst other activities. As a result, a lot of art on the walls had come from Castiel’s efforts, and there was a baby grand piano on the screened-in patio at the back of the house. Castiel had loved going to classes and filling his brain with facts and equations. Until he’d reached middle school – puberty age – and realised he was much, much different than his peers. Where they loved to pretend to be cooler than they were (seriously, how could a pimply thirteen-year-old be _cool_?), Castiel loved sitting in a back corner of the library with a stack of books beside him. The torment and bullying had begun then and only grew worse the further he got in his school years. He’d kept a steady countdown in his brain, every year: _Just five more years, and I’m out of here... Just four more years... Just three more years... Just two... After this, I am out of here, and I will never have to see these people again._ It was a bitter reminder of just how solitary of an existence he truly was. But now.. Now there was Charlie.

The redhead’s face split into a huge grin when she saw him sitting on the floor by her locker, _Great Expectations_ already open in his hands.

“Been here long?”

“Uh, yes, actually. I... I had an attack at the beginning of class, so Mr Creaser allowed me to leave.”

“Ouch. You okay?”

“Yes.”

Charlie knew about Castiel’s anxiety. They had been on the phone two weeks after meeting, talking about a video game she was playing when the attack had hit for the first time during their friendship. She hadn’t stopped talking as soon as he started breathing rapidly, the sound of her voice covering up the sound of his gasps, but she’d heard the wheezing when she paused, waiting for an answer to a question Castiel hadn’t even heard. She’d asked if he was okay, then reprimanded herself for asking such a stupid question – of course he wasn’t okay – before coaching him through the breathing. Once the attack passed, she didn’t ask what caused it, and he didn’t ask how she knew exactly what to do.

Charlie’s room was – there were no other words for it – strange. There were so many Doctor Who and Star Wars posters tacked to the walls, he was unable to ascertain what colour the wallpaper even was. The bedspread was thick and fluffy, a deep ink-green colour, and Castiel’s bare feet sunk into the plush, white carpeting. She took a running leap, flying through the air to land on her back on the bed. He dropped his bag on the floor and took a seat in her computer chair to the left of the door. Staring around the room brought no new information about his best friend’s personality; that was one thing he loved about Charlie. She was rather much like an open book. She didn’t play games or try to hide what she was feeling or thinking.

“Charlie?”

“Yep?”

“Can I ask you something?”

She rolled onto her stomach, resting her chin in her hands, and smiled. “Of course.”

“Why... Why were you so adamant about being my friend? You could have just as easily only talked to me during class and ignored me outside of those four walls, yet you didn’t. Why?”

He was surprised when he saw the sadness in her eyes, her grin having vanished at his inquiry. There was a raw, agonising pain deep in the chocolate irises. He wanted to apologise for having asked the question, but before he could even open his mouth, it was as if somebody slammed a door, locking that hurt away, and her brown eyes showed no evidence of the fleeting emotions she’d felt. Her lips twisted upwards in a genuine smile.

“I told you, Castiel. Nobody deserves to be lonely.”

 

**.+.+.+.**

Charlie hurried up the steps to Castiel’s apartment building, pressing the buzzer three times in quick succession. When there was no response, she rolled her eyes and pushed down on the button harder, held it down longer. A tendril of cold snaked its way up her spine, elicited goosebumps along her flesh – and it had nothing to do with the winter air surrounding her. She tamped down her fear and worry, and let her gloved fingers find the button of Castiel’s next door neighbour.

_“Yes?”_

She jumped at the sudden squawk from the box. “Hey, Mr Jones, it’s Charlie. Mind buzzing me in? I think Castiel’s oversleeping again.”

_“Ah, Charlie, of course! Let me know if you need help waking him up.”_

“Will do, Mr Jones,” laughed Charlie before she rushed forward to open the door as soon as it unlocked.

Outside of his door, she pressed her ear to the wood to listen for any sounds of Castiel being up. Nothing but silence. She pulled out her keychain and quickly found his key. The air inside the apartment was nearly as cold as it was outside; she made her way to the thermostat on the wall just inside the door, flipping the switch to heat and adjusting the dial to seventy-five degrees. His messenger bag sat in its usual spot by the end of the couch, and his travel mug sat by the coffeemaker in the kitchen. She bit her lip and took hesitant steps down the hallway to his bedroom.

“Castiel? Yo, dude, we gotta go. We’re gonna be late if we – _Castiel_?”

She flipped the light-switch into the on position and screamed. On his bed lay Castiel, blue eyes hidden behind their lids, full lips dry and flaking. His chest was barely moving, though she could hear clearly, the rapid shallowness of his breathing. A large oval of dark red had overtaken most of his bed. She hurried forward and gagged. His right wrist was mutilated, the skin hacked at by something sharp. Charlie couldn’t stop her tears as she searched for something to staunch the flow of blood still pulsing from the wound. She pulled her cell phone from her pocket and dialled the only number she memorised – besides Castiel’s.

 _“Hey, Red. You_ do _realise I’m gonna be seeing you and Clarence in, like, ten minutes, right?”_

“Meg? Oh, my God, Meg, we need help. Castiel... He’s bleeding bad.”

There was a sharp intake of breath from the other end of the line, and when Meg spoke again, there was no sign of her sarcastic humour in her voice. Instead, her words were icy, pointed.

_“What are we talkin’, B &E gone bad or something?”_

“No. No. Um, it... It looks self-inflicted. There’s so much blood. I don’t know what to do.”

_“Wrap the area in a clean towel or something. You’ll have to press hard to stop the bleeding. Call an ambulance. I’ll meet you guys at the hospital.”_

The line clicked, and Charlie did as Meg had ordered. She waited impatiently for someone to pick up as she ran to the bathroom. There were no towels, so she grabbed Castiel’s robe from off the back of the door. She’d just tied it as tightly around his wrist as she could when she finally heard those blessed words.

_“9-1-1, what’s your emergency?”_

“My – my name is Charlie. I came to get my friend for school, but... He’s, oh, God, he’s bleeding bad. Castiel, please don’t do this to me... He cut himself or something – I don’t know, please get an ambulance here or something! Please!”

_“Alright, Charlie. Stay calm, okay? Can you tell me what the address is, please?”_

Charlie rattled off the address to the smooth voice while struggling to breathe through the tears. “Please, Castiel, please don’t die. I can’t have another friend die on me. _Please_. Don’t fucking die on me!”

_“Charlie, you need to take a deep breath. There’s an ambulance about five minutes out. Can you tell me how your friend is doing?”_

“I don’t know. He’s not breathing really well. There’s so much blood. Please hurry. I can’t lose him, too.”

_“We’re hurrying, Charlie. Stay calm. They’ll be there soon, honey. Take a deep breath. That’s it.”_

The dispatcher stayed on the line, keeping Charlie calm, until a loud banging at the front door startled the sobbing redhead. She ran to open the portal without question; EMTs burst past her, barely acknowledging her except to ask where the victim was. She pointed to the room. The dispatcher promised that Castiel would be in good hands then disconnected the call. Charlie felt more alone than ever. A paramedic told her to hurry if she wanted to ride along. The entire trip to the hospital took less than fifteen minutes, but it felt like an eternity. She kept whispering tear-filled apologies to the air as the medics did as much for Castiel as they could in the back of an emergency vehicle.

Meg was in the waiting room by the time Charlie managed to find it. Without speaking, Meg pulled Charlie into a tight embrace, bringing her to sit on the padded bench, and Charlie cried into her friend’s shoulder. Her words stuttered as she continued apologising for not noticing the signs, not being there to stop Castiel.

“I can’t lose him, too, Meg. I _can’t_.”

“I know, Red.” Meg kissed Charlie’s hair softly. “He’ll be okay. He’s gotta be.” 


End file.
